You do need some clothes

You can't just be naked all the time. Well, you can but, than you wouldn't have the fun of taking your clothes off.

The officers uncuff you hand you your belongings and part with a polite "have a good day ma'am." The older one giving a respectful smile, the younger a gleeful one.

You enter the building making token efforts to cover yourself but make sure anyone that wants to can see your perky tits. Mercy is sitting at the receptionist desk. She looks up and attempts a sympathetic smile but a bit of a giggle sneaks out. "Oh my," she says, "I didn't think that law was serious. I hope your clothes weren't ruined."

"I'll be fine" you reply "I just need to take care of something." You take out the rulebook and bend slightly over her desk. You are about to write yourself a new wardrobe, but you realise you ass must look very tempting to anyone behind you and that gives you another idea for a rule to give your city.

• Old rule in a corporate office it is perfectly acceptable to touch any exposed skin for whatever reason regardless of how private the exposed area is.

You title the next page with your company name. As you start to write the next rule you begin to feel occasional pats and caresses on you firm butt from passersby.

• Old Rule The owner of the rulebook has a private walk in closet at work full of a wide variety of skimpy, sexy, so go-.

You are glad you wrote in pencil. Someone is running their finger along your very wet lips in your pussy and you are having trouble focusing. Glancing behind you, you see it is John an ambitious and confident marketing coordinator. He smiles and strolls away.

You erase your mistake and continue writing.

• Old Rule The owner of the rulebook has a private walk in closet at work full of a wide variety of skimpy, slutty and revealing clothes to wear at work.

You also think of one last rule and add it before you forget.

• Old Rule The owner of the rulebook cannot receive, carry or transmit any STIs, or get pregnant unless she wants to; this is common knowledge.

"Oh right," Mercy adds "I forgot you have those clothes here."

"Yeah, it is handy," you say. "Oh, and here is your coffee." You hand her the cup she requested, call the elevator, and throw out your clothes. They were too stuffy anyway.

The ride to the third floor is uneventful. Mickey, a good friend and co-worker, walks past the elevator as you exit, and he is the first to see you. "Hi ah Jenny," he greets you trying to maintain eye contact. "I thought you left wearing clothes I hope you didn't get into too much ti- uh trouble. Here I'll hand the rest of the coffees out for you." He is blushing a bit now and trying to find a way out of the conversation.

"Thank you soo much" you say sweetly while clasping four hands and pressing your breasts between your arms making them and Mickey's eyes pop out. He hurries away before you can do anything else to him, but you make a note he has too much pent up energy you should fix that.

"Miss Jackson" says a voice behind you. "How can someone be so incompetent they cannot follow a simple law." It belongs to Ms. Kanich the one person in the whole building you aren't on a first name basis with. You had tried to be friends with her. She was only a few years older than you, attractive and elegant, but always so prickly "And are you aroused? You are such a perverted slut."

"I'm sorry," you manage while shrinking back. Its your turn to hurry off as you head towards where you remember your new dressing room to be.

In the safety of the closet you relax a bit and even start idly playing with a nipple while you search. The room itself is a little cramped, similar to a hallway really with a long line of outfits on hangers to your left and a few items on hooks on the far wall. There are a few hangers empty and you take that to mean you could stay naked. After all, nudity is just a very revealing outfit.

There are bikinis: string, micro, sling and one interesting three piece that consists of a tear drop thong and two minimal triangle cups independent of each other and supported by their own set of strings. Behind them is lingerie. A mostly opaque crimson bra, panties and thighigh stockings with a frilly trim catch your eye. As well as a sheer and lacy flyaway cami with matching thong.

There is a dominatrix costume. Long laced up boots, a front laced corset, even the thong had decorative laces. You hadn't pictured yourself as a dominatrix, but you could use this outfit and the Rulebook to put Ms. Kanich in her place. Perhaps make her "apologize" to Mickey for all those constructive insults she was so free with. However, the image that filled your head was her in the outfit looking down at you with her typical disdainful grin as you desperately licked her boots. You push the thought aside and keep looking.

As you continue looking, you think the lingerie is taking on a costumey feel as you examine a leather bondage harness. You see a **** Leia bikini and beside it a crotchless harem outfit made from layers of transparent blue and purple cloth. While not entirely lingerie you see a light, loose fitting night shirt that says "party anytime" with an eye mask that says "up all night".

As you continue to look through the costumes your left had moves from the nipple it was playing with and has started stroking the tender flesh between your outer and inner lips. There is a wide variety of costumes: sexy nurse, tattered remains of a cowgirl outfit, even what you guess is supposed to be construction worker garb (hard hat, caution tape and a tool belt pretending to be a loincloth). After that you see a slim and skimpy maid's uniform you could assign yourself to clean every floor and lick clean every pussy and dick along the way.

Looking further you see a cheerleader's uniform and decide to try it on. The top ties in the front and shows plenty of cleavage. It is cropped just below the breasts. Come to think of it, it the top only covers about as much as a bra; except a bra would let your nipples poke through or let your boobs bounce with every step. "Go team pussy" is written across the front--rather small there isn't much space. You don't want to play favourites and will have to show your appreciation for team cock in other ways. The skirt is just barely long enough to hide your lack of panties, as long as you don't do the splits, cartwheel, bend over, twirl, jump, stand near a fan, walk, or just get looked at the wrong way. You grab the pompoms and notice their handles are a bit different. One is 8 inches long and with small smooth bumps. The other is smaller but shaped suspiciously like a butt plug. Its clear there are alternate ways to hold them.

And with that you've had enough. Aside from a bit of public masturbation you have shown remarkable restraint. But all those naughty thoughts, the touching, the exhibiting are too powerful. You need to masturbate even if you are at work. You could make a rule saying it's allowed but you aren't thinking of that right now. And the risk makes it even hotter.

You start by sliding one finger than two in and out of your pussy, but quickly move onto the dildo handle of the pompom. With your other hand you bring the butt plug up to your mouth and start lubricating it; then move it down to press gently at your tight rosebud. You let out a high squeal that turns into a moan when you insert the plug. The constant arousal for so long has already brought you so close to the edge. You now no longer care about being quiet and are moaning as well as letting out the occasional cry. Laying on the floor in a dishevelled cheerleader uniform with the plug in your ass, your left hand working the dildo and your right satisfying your clit you bring your self to a loud sweaty orgasm.

You lay there gasping as waves of pleasure wash over you. And your hear footsteps outside.